


Captive

by AuroraNova



Series: The Vadari Chronicles [18]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, Kidnapping, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-11-24 09:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20905781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: “Julian, I’m glad you have faith in the power of your love and all, but can we be less damsels in distress and more proactive?”Slowly but surely, Julian is opening up to Kara. She likes that. Accelerating the process through kidnapping - this part she could've done without.





	1. Complicated

**Author's Note:**

> Something new in the series: Kara's POV. It just works for this installment.

Julian stops practicing against the wall when Kara opens the door to the racquetball court. He doesn’t want anyone else to see him play without holding himself back, and Kara thinks he’s a bit paranoid about it, but she’s not the one who has to live with Augmentphobia. (She heard unfavorable remarks in the past, but after a couple heartfelt outbursts on her part people stopped mentioning anything negative about Julian in her earshot. Kara has never been able to abide people talking badly about her friends.)

He’s not wrong. Glad as most people are to have him here with his much-needed medical expertise, some do watch him. Maybe not as much as he thinks, but it’s still more observation than most people have to deal with, so she doesn’t begrudge him turning around to make sure it’s just her.

She’s actually pleased he’s willing to go all out in her presence. She asked for more trust than she’d realized when she insisted he not handicap himself playing her.

“Bad day?” she asks.

“No one died.”

“That’s not the only way to have a bad day.”

“Let’s play.”

Fine. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, Kara knows better than to push. Not that she’s tried, but she gets the impression trying to push Julian would be about as effective as trying to shove a mountain around with her bare hands.

As usual, she loses at racquetball. All these losses to Julian are forcing her to improve her game, though, and when she plays against others it really shows.

On the walk back to their building he says, “A reporter for the Vadaran News Network contacted me. He wants to interview me for a documentary on the anniversary of the war’s end, and didn’t accept no as an answer until I closed the channel on him. Then he followed up with a written request.”

The war is a sensitive subject for Julian. A lot of things are, actually, but he’s slowly starting to mention more about his life before Vadari VII. Kara isn’t quite sure how much of that is that he trusts her and how much of it is Julian healing from his pain. Either way, last week he told her about a Ferengi named Quark who Kara doesn’t think she’d like much, and she takes that as a good sign.

“Let me guess, this journalist is from Five,” she says. “They like to think they know best. It’s why my sister fits in so well there.” Vadari V is the most populous of the three inhabited moons, and its residents tend to let it go to their heads.

Julian doesn’t quite smile, but his expression lightens anyway. “He is, and he’s obnoxious. He went on at length about educating people and the historical record.”

“You don’t owe it to anyone.”

After a weighty pause, Julian says, “He claimed he’d respect anything which was classified, but I can’t explain to people who weren’t there.”

“Do you talk about it at all? Maybe with Garak?” Kara hopes so. There needs to be someone he can turn to.

When she wakes up from a nightmare about the Breen attack, Lutro holds her until she can face the universe again. She knows how to coax him out of a flashback, though thankfully those are becoming rarer now. She can talk with friends, her in-laws, or her closer coworkers. They all experienced the same horrific evening, and sharing the burden makes it bearable, or at least, knowing she’s not alone has made all the difference for Kara. The point is, she wants that kind of support for Julian. 

“Occasionally. Elim and I had different war experiences, for the most part. I sometimes discuss it with Miles. Miles O’Brien. He’s teaching at Starfleet Academy now, but he was DS9’s Chief of Operations for, well, nearly as long as I was the CMO.”

“I’m glad.” Then she realizes something. “Wait a minute. Garak’s first name is Elim? I’m allowed to know that now?”

“I’m tired of secrets, Kara.” He sounds drained in a way that suggests more is going on than Kara knows. “I had the one for seventeen years, from the day my parents told me what they’d done to me to the day my father mentioned the resequencing to a hologram he thought was me. And then with the war and what’s classified… suffice it to say I’m not looking to keep any more secrets which aren’t necessary.”

Kara is not known for her tact, but she’s familiar with the concept and thus doesn’t ask about this business with the hologram. “If it’s not necessary, why doesn’t he tell people his name?”

Julian shrugs. “There are usually multiple reasons with him. One is that it spares him explaining Cardassian social customs regarding names and why he’d rather people not use his first name. It’s habit, as well.”

“He’s a reflexive secret-keeper, for sure.” Of the likes she has never seen. Even Julian doesn’t come close. Julian has reasons. Garak seems to like secrecy as an end unto itself, as far as Kara can tell.

“Elim is a complicated person.”

“Julian, I hate to break it to you, but you and Garak are both complicated people.”

“Fair enough,” he says. “I’m glad you don’t think I owe it to posterity to do the interview.”

“No. You’re a war hero, that’s plenty.”

“I don’t think of myself that way.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

He sighs. “I don’t think there are heroes in war. Just people trying to survive.”

Kara looks around, where destruction from the Breen attack is still evident. There’s a new high school, but the ruins of the old one haven’t been cleared away yet, and the park is still a mess. “Maybe the rest of us need heroes. Otherwise, what do we have? This?” She sweeps her hand around. “Death and destruction with no counterbalance.”

Julian is silent for a moment. Then, very quietly, he says, “A Breen saved my life once.”

She has no idea how to respond to _that. _The Breen are universally reviled in the system for attacking – oh. That’s probably Julian’s point, somehow. She’s a little fuzzy on the details. “Really?” It’s a safe reply, if nothing else.

“Before they joined with the Dominion. Before the war officially started, though by that point it was a foregone conclusion.”

“Now I have to be grateful to a Breen?” That’s uncomfortable.

Julian actually smiles a bit. “You’re nothing like Miles, but that’s something he’d say.”

“Fine. I’ll make an exception and not hate this one Breen.”

“He – or she, they, who really knows with the Breen? – was promptly vaporized by a Jem’Hadar, so you’re free to go on hating all the Breen left. My point was, it’s not a matter of heroes and villains, black and white. I used to think it was, but it’s not.”

Kara has a feeling there’s way, way more to this conversation than she knows. If this is somehow therapeutic for Julian, though, she’ll follow along on the level she can understand and hope it’s enough.

“I never thought of myself as vindictive before the attack,” she says. “After the funerals I would’ve loved to have seen the Breen homeworld hit with something. An attack, a supervolcano, anything, as long as it made them suffer. We’re civilians here. No military or strategic value, no reason to attack us. I know it’s not the same as fighting, but I understand that living through something traumatic changes you. You see the universe differently. How could you not?”

She knows she’ll never be the same person she was before the Breen attacked. Physically, she was lucky. She still lost her father, best friend, home, and peace of mind. The Breen arrived out of the blue while she and Lutro were spending an evening with his sister, and Kara can no longer enter her sister-in-law’s living room because it brings her right back to the horrible experience of cowering in fear. She’s acutely aware of how hostile the galaxy at large is, the frailty and cruelty of life.

Not to mention, she’s angrier than she used to be. This isn’t constant, but sometimes it sneaks up on her. No, there is no going back, only making her way forward as best she can.

“I’m trying not to let it make me too maudlin,” Julian says wryly. “Today hasn’t been a great success, obviously.”

“We’re allowed bad days.” Kara firmly believes this. “Sometimes a whole string of them in a row.”

“Here’s hoping it doesn’t come to that.”

“I’m with you.”

Something is weighing on Julian. Kara waits, and after a long moment he says, “I can’t be your hero.”

Oh. That remark came out wrong, and she hurries to explain. “I was speaking broadly. You’re not some mythical figure to me, Julian. You’re my friend.”

Maybe he’s a smidge more heroic than any other friend. It doesn’t make him any less a real, whole person in her view.

“Good,” he says, relief written all over his face.

* * *

By the weekend, Julian’s mood has improved.

He, Kara, and Lutro are skiing on Vadari VIII. It took a bit to plan this, since Julian’s schedule works on rotation and he’s most often off duty on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. It’s not a coincidence that Garak’s Clothiers is closed Tuesdays. Anyway, Julian finally has a Saturday completely free, not even on call, and they’re learning to ski.

More accurately, they’ve been attempting to ski with mixed results. It’s no surprise when Julian picks up the basics very quickly. Kara acquits herself reasonably well after a few false starts.

Lutro… doesn’t. He spends a lot of time falling and cursing.

“Garak had the right idea,” he says after another face-down flop into the snow. “I should’ve stayed home.”

“Maybe we need to take another intro lesson,” Kara says.

“No.” Lutro lets Julian help him up. “You two go for the actual slopes. I’m going to sit in the lodge with a warm cup of coffee and no sticks attached to my legs. Come find me in a couple of hours for lunch.”

“If you’re sure.” She doesn’t want to abandon her husband, but it looks like that’s the only way she’ll ever get further than the bunny hill.

Fortunately, she and Lutro have never been the kind of people who believe spouses have to do everything together. He sends them off with instructions to have fun. In her head, he adds, _Better Julian than me_, with a wave of genuine pleasure that Kara has someone with whom she can share her fun and he can give up torturing himself.

Lutro loves meeting new people and hearing their stories, so Kara watches him head towards the lodge and then turns to Julian without guilt. “Let’s do this.”

After a couple of runs, they manage to get down the gentlest trail without either of them falling. (Julian swears his spectacular tumble was due to an icy spot. Kara freely admits to screwing up a turn and landing on her ass.) It’s exhilarating, and she already knows she’ll want to do this again. Months after the Breen attack, it’s still glorious to feel so vibrantly alive, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever get enough of the joie de vivre.

This goes on for over an hour. They’re on the ski lift again when Julian cranes his head weirdly. “What are you doing?” she asks.

“Checking something.”

She doesn’t know what’s so fascinating about the empty chair going down, but sometimes Julian gets interested in random things. Last month he made musical instruments out of various vegetables just to see if he could, because he got bored on his day off and had nothing better to do. (He made them just fine, but playing them was another matter. It turns out he has no musical talent whatsoever.)

It’s not until they’re preparing to go down that she realizes something is wrong. Julian looks intently at her goggles. “I think we’re being followed,” he murmurs. “No, don’t move. I’m looking at the reflection. Can you reach Lutro from here?”

“Weak emotions. Not specific thoughts.” They have a very feeble imzadi bond, by Betazoid standards. This has never bothered her before. About now, she desperately wishes it didn’t require such close proximity. All Lutro will get at the moment is her rising panic.

“Then we’ll go down as fast as we can. As soon as you can contact him, tell him I think we’re being followed, and if we don’t meet him right away, he needs to get Garak.”

“Not the police?”

“Garak. Go.”

Kara has questions. She also has no experience with being followed, so it seems best to bow to Julian’s Starfleet expertise and do what he says.

There’s no joy this time. Just an aching fear because Julian, who faces down death every day he goes to work and who fought the Dominion on the front lines, is more worried than he wants her to realize. She pushes herself to go faster, simultaneously reaching out to Lutro with everything she has.

Julian’s not beside her anymore. Kara risks a glance and sees he’s behind her, and she’s fairly sure he’s deliberately putting himself between her and whoever is following them. There’s no time to look closer. Falling isn’t going to help.

Finally, finally she can almost communicate with her husband. The impressions are getting sharper – he’s trying not to panic at what he’s feeling from her, and not doing a very good job of it – and then she breaks through.

_We’re being followed. Julian says to get Garak. _

She concentrates so hard she doesn’t see a small bump in time. It catches her left ski and she tumbles down.

_I’ll get the police._

_Garak. Julian insisted. I love you._

Then everything goes dark. 


	2. Certainty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we go again. Another story has grown beyond the original plan. Kara started worrying, she and Julian started talking, and next thing I know, it's turned into a three-chapter story.

Kara floats between consciousness and lack thereof. It’s nice at first, this liminal state where she’s vaguely aware of inhabiting her body and perhaps someone speaking, without any pain or worries to trouble her. She’s comfortable.

It doesn’t last long. Gradually she becomes aware that she’s lying on a hard surface and her body aches, particularly a patch between her shoulders. Then she remembers being followed as she raced down a mountain trying to reach Lutro. Shock compels her to sit up, or rather to try. It goes badly. The room seems to spin around, there might as well be an entire ocean sloshing about in her ears, and she has a new understanding of the adage ‘weak as a kitten.’

“Easy,” says Julian. “Don’t try to move to fast.”

She can only manage to blink at him, so rapidity isn’t looking to be a problem. At least the roaring noise slowly dissipates.

“The first time being stunned is always the worst,” he continues. “Your body learns to handle it better, with practice.”

Kara sincerely hopes it doesn’t come to that.

They’re in a holding cell of some kind. The surroundings look Federation, whatever broader implications that might have. Then again, this could be holographic for all she knows, which is nothing. “Where are we?”

“I’m not sure,” admits Julian. “The force field is active, that much I can tell you.”

“I figured.”

The conversation is interrupted by the hiss of doors opening out of her sightline. Julian stands. Kara gathers all her strength to shakily follow suit because she’d rather not have some goon towering over her if it can be helped, though she does compromise by leaning against the wall.

Not Julian. He stands close to the forcefield, perfectly steady. You could put a picture of his face in the dictionary next to _resolute_, and for a man trapped in a holding cell by unknown kidnappers, he’s remarkably uncowed. Kara admires him tremendously.

“Hello, Doctor.”

It’s the strangest thing. Kara thinks she catches a brief glimpse of relief on Julian’s face when their kidnapper steps into view, though it’s gone so quickly she can’t be sure. Or maybe he’s working on a strategy.

The goon shakes his head. “I told you, you should’ve cooperated when you had a chance.”

“And I told you that under no circumstances will I perform illegal genetic manipulation on your daughter or anyone else,” replies Julian levelly.

So that’s what this is about.

“You’re not going to have a choice in the matter,” says their kidnapper. “Unless you want to watch your friend here starve to death.”

It’s a good thing Kara is leaning against the wall. She suddenly feels weaker at the knees than she already did.

Unruffled, Julian crosses his arms. “Do I look compliant to you?”

“You will,” the goon says.

“You seem awfully sure of that. Tell me, how many other people besides your daughter will I be required to remake before we’re allowed to leave?”

Their captor smiles like he’s winning. “Very good, Doctor. Six in all.”

“Let me guess. The other five are adults.” When this gets no response, Julian goes on, “They’re using you, you know.”

“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“That’s what they want you to think.”

“You don’t hold the cards here. We do. No food until you start working.”

“I’ll pass, thanks,” says Julian.

“We’ll talk again soon.” With that ominous statement, their kidnapper walked away.

Kara doesn’t even know where to start. She’s terrified, for one thing, and not quite sure whether it’s better or worse that she was completely disregarded, deemed useless except as incentive for Julian. Then again, she couldn’t hope to be as cool under pressure as Julian.

He comes over to her, leads her to the middle of the cell before leaning in to murmur in her ear. “The walls may have ears. Were you able to get through?”

She nods. Lutro definitely got the message.

“Then we’ll be fine.”

Kara wants to believe that. She really does. It’s just hard at the moment, what with the growing panic. “How?”

“Elim is coming.”

Hopefully he is. Lutro’s family owns a small shuttle, because when you sell bees you don’t want to rely on commercial transports keeping them alive, so in theory Garak could be following close behind. That, however, requires him knowing where they are. Kara doesn’t even know where she is.

Lutro will be out of his mind with worry.

“Julian, I’m glad you have faith in the power of your love and all, but can we be less damsels in distress and more proactive?”

Julian chuckles. “Trust me. Right now the best thing you can do is save your strength. He’ll be here.”

He sits down, back against the wall, as casual as possible. Sitting looks good to Kara, whose legs still haven’t entirely recovered – as long as she doesn’t have to get up anytime soon. That doesn’t look to be a concern.

The cell has a toilet set into the wall, but she doesn’t see a source of water. Maybe it will be transported in? If they don’t get water, Garak is going to have to work fast, and she’s really starting to wonder what he did during the war that Julian can be so confident. Tailors usually aren’t anyone’s first choice for rescuer. While she’s never assumed Garak’s contributions to the war were sartorial, there are a lot of ways to help beat the Dominion which don’t translate to breaking your partner and his friend out of kidnappers’ custody.

“Do you think the police are coming?” she asks. Mentioning Garak out loud is bad, she gets that, but shouldn’t they be… playing into expectations, somehow? That, or she read too many of her dad’s improbable adventure books when she was a teenager.

“I’m sure they’ll be investigating.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“Sorry,” says Julian.

She gives his hand a squeeze. “Just tell me what to do.”

“There’s nothing to do at the moment,” he says. “How are you feeling? That was a powerful phaser blast. Entirely unwarranted force, really.”

“I’ll add it to my list of complaints.”

Julian gives her a wry grin. “The accommodations could stand improvement as well, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely. At minimum, we deserve pillows.”

As well and good as banter is, Kara can’t keep her mind from the gravity of their situation. Maybe something like this is par for the Starfleet course. She teaches high school social studies and the professional development seminars never touch on what to do if you’re snatched off a mountain by power-hungry thugs. This thought leads to remembering that she’s supposed to finish grading tests tomorrow for Monday return, and some of her more grade-conscious students will be upset if they have to wait longer than promised.

Will she even see her students again?

In the hopes of distracting herself, she asks, “I know you’re not sure, but do you have any idea where we might be?”

“At a guess, the nearest hospital which was abandoned in a hurry. There’s no point in taking me if they can’t provide the necessary equipment for genetic modification, and sales of said equipment are heavily regulated. There are a few colonies around which were abandoned because of Tzenkethi aggression, I believe. Probably one of them.”

As usual, Julian recalls correctly. Now that he mentions it, Kara remembers about ten years ago people started looking to expand the Federation further with new colonies in the region, and most of these settlements didn’t last. No one thought it was worth another war with the Tzenkethi. There’s a ribbon of space serving as an unofficial neutral zone, and if they are currently in that region, Kara hopes the Tzenkethi don’t find them.

Geopolitics aside, she’s surprised the tools for illegal genetic engineering are so easily accessible. “Wait. This kind of equipment is on hand?”

“It’s legal and ethical in limited cases relating to serious birth defects.”

“Wouldn’t it have been easier for these people to go to somewhere outside the Federation that already performs the procedures willingly?”

“You’d think,” says Julian. “They may not have the latinum. Or perhaps they don’t know where to go since Adigeon Prime was nearly destroyed by the Dominion.”

“Oh.”

What if Garak doesn’t come? Kara doesn’t want to see this crew given Julian’s abilities – they obviously can’t be trusted - but she doesn’t want to starve to death, either. How much can she suffer before she’ll beg him to do what they want?

If it comes to that, will these bastards ever let them go at all, or is it just false hope?

“Deeper breaths,” says Julian. “I know it sounds trite, but it really is helpful.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“What are you doing, Mr. Cool and Collected?”

“Thinking about revisions to a paper I’m writing. Siv Traala gave me some very helpful feedback on points where I assumed too much basic knowledge of Klingon physiology.”

She stares.

“What? This paper has great personal significance. It needs to be perfect.”

“We’re being held hostage by maniacs and you’re thinking about a _paper_?” He could, for instance, be thinking of a backup plan if Garak doesn’t come soon. Tricking the goon into lowering the forcefield and then overpowering him comes to mind. Agreeing to start doing their bidding and then overpowering him? It depends on how close backup is, but surely it’s worth considering. 

Then again, he can’t exactly say any escape plans out loud.

Julian scoots closer. “Would you like to hear about the time I was a centimeter tall?”

“Yes, please.” A distraction sounds perfect, and that’s on top of a very promising story.

“Nine months into the war, we explored a subspace compression anomaly…”

It’s an excellent story, and Julian tells it well. There’s humor, heroic action, and through it all she detects the threads of his friendships, the fondness in his voice when he speaks of Miles and Jadzia in particular. Plus, if this is the kind of thing he dealt with on a regular basis, it goes a long way to explaining why an ordinary kidnapping doesn’t seem like the end of the world.

“You miss Starfleet, don’t you?” she asks when he finishes.

“Yes. I do. But my life now is more than I ever had any right to expect.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t miss it.” Not to mention, he’d been told he could stay in Starfleet, and then someone changed their mind. How cruel to raise and dash his hopes.

“No. I suppose not. The thing is, DS9 wouldn’t be the same now anyway.”

She’d like to ask why but thinks it better not to. At least one of Julian’s friends is back on Earth, he said, which might have something to do with it. As it is, he’s already shared far more of himself than he ever did before, as a kindness to take her mind off their situation. 

Before the Breen attack, Kara would’ve thoughtlessly asked for more than he was willing to give. Now she knows that everyone deals with pain on their own timeline, and asking them to hew to yours only makes it all worse.

“My turn for a story,” Julian says, and she doesn’t comment on the unsubtle change of subject.

“I don’t have anything as exciting as yours.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“How about Lutro’s endearing but poorly executed attempts at human dating?” He had a steep learning curve somehow, despite living in a human-majority city on a human-majority planet.

“Do tell,” says Julian.

So she launches into the story of how he accidentally brought her funeral flowers and hopes desperately to see him again soon.

* * *

They do get water. Kara’s not sure why, but doesn’t mention it lest she give their captors any ideas.

“Not a generous amount, but enough to keep us alive,” Julian says once the glasses have been transported in. “They need me to be able to function at a certain level, or they’ve gone through all this trouble for nothing.”

“Could you do it? What they’re asking?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment. When he does, he’s looking away. “Yes. I spent years researching what was done to me. I could replicate it, more or less, but there’s no guarantee it would go according to plan. There isn’t a single gene you can manipulate to make someone stronger or increase their IQ, and anyone who thinks there is has a woefully misunderstanding of biology. The person who comes out of the process is an entirely different individual than the one who started it. I won’t do that to an innocent child any more than I’ll do it to adults who aren’t happy with their abilities and undoubtedly have nefarious ends in mind.”

“Julian.” She waits until he’s able to make eye contact. “I never said I thought you should.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

“What?”

“It’s my fault you’re here.”

Oh, no. He’s not going down that road. “Stop this right now. It’s their fault, not yours. We weren’t doing anything wrong, and if you think for one second I’m blaming you for some power-hungry bastards kidnapping us, you have a lot to learn about me.”

“Alright,” Julian says quietly. Kara isn’t fooled into thinking the subject is fully closed, but it can wait until they’re rescued. Presuming they are, of course. She’s trying not to despair, but she’s also getting hungry enough that her stomach is rumbling.

“You can sleep,” he tells her.

“What about you?”

“I’m not tired.”

“Do we have to take turns sleeping?” She’s read it in those books.

“No. There’s no surprise we need to look out for. If they want us, they’ll wake us up, and if they don’t, there’s nothing else to be done.”

“Okay,” she says, and tries to get comfortable. This is difficult on a hard metal floor. Sleep eludes her for quite some time, but eventually the events of the day catch up with her and she slips under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The centimeter-tall story, of course, is Julian's telling of the events in "One Little Ship."


	3. Commando

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the chapter count went up again. I felt this adventure needed more follow-up, but I also don't want to keep my lovely readers waiting any longer, so without further delay, here's the great rescue.

“A lion?”

“No.” That’s another win for Kara. She’d enjoy it more if her stomach wasn’t trying to eat itself. Being locked up by evil henchmen doesn’t help, of course, but the hunger is more pressing.

“What was it, then?” asks Julian.

“A saber tooth tiger.”

“An animal that’s been extinct for eleven thousand years? Good choice.”

Kara’s always had a knack for Twenty Questions. It used to drive her sister mad. Now it seems as good a way as anything else to pass the time. If she sits here with nothing to occupy her mind, she’ll imagine increasingly dire scenarios involving slow starvation or never being let go or Julian caving and letting genetically engineered villains loose on the quadrant. So she suggested Twenty Questions, and they’ve been playing for what has to be a few hours now.

“Saber tooth tiger is less obscure than your Tellarite puzzle,” she says.

“I thought everyone had heard of ganigot,” Julian replies. Again. He’d been shocked this was a new term to her.

“No. Everyone really, really hasn’t.”

“The fad must’ve been limited to Earth.”

Kara is bored with Twenty Questions (her sister used to think that wasn’t possible) and takes Julian’s lack of prompting to mean he is as well. Instead of starting another round, she remarks, “I’ve never been to Earth. I’ve never even left the sector.”

“You might have now.”

“This is not how I wanted to travel, Julian.”

“Fair enough. Were you born on Vadari VII?”

“Yes. My parents were some of the first colonists. Mom came from Earth, Dad came from Parita IV.”

“I was born on Earth,” says Julian. “England. We moved a lot, though when you add it up I spent more of my childhood in greater London than anywhere else.”

“Moved off planet, or on?”

“Both.”

Having lived her entire life in the same small city, Kara can’t relate to his gallivanting around the galaxy. The nomadic lifestyle begs a question to her deeply-rooted mind. “So where’s home?”

When Julian doesn’t answer, she could kick herself. She should’ve realized his home was Deep Space Nine and he got sent away, which makes it a stupid, insensitive question. Yes, she’s not at her best right now, but she still ought to have known better.

Julian looks a thousand light-years distant. Kara is about to apologize when he says, “I’m still working on that.”

Guiltily, she offers an aching truth of her own to even the score. “Mom used to say she’d take us to Earth someday. We’d see the Grand Canyon. That was before she gave up on everything except booze.”

Kara was fifteen when her mother died of exposure and alcohol poisoning. When you got down to it, though, she’d lost her mom years earlier. The death certificate was just a formality.

“It’s impressive,” Julian says. “The Grand Canyon. I never did get back for the mule ride, but pictures don’t do it justice.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about a mule ride.” Honestly, she’s not sure how she feels about seeing the Grand Canyon at all, seeing as how it’s tied up in some difficult memories. At best it would be bittersweet.

This conversation turned far weightier than she meant. In an attempt to steer it out of turbulent water, she remarks, “God, my breath is terrible.”

“That’s the ketosis. Your body is out of carbs to burn and switched over to fats.”

“I thought it was the lack of toothbrushes.”

“That’s not helping either,” says Julian.

They’re notably short on much of anything to put in the ‘helpful’ column right now. If Julian is overestimating Garak… well, she’s trying not to think about it.

* * *

“That’s it?” asks Kara.

Julian says, “Yes. The end.”

“I don’t see what the fuss is about. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a good storyteller, but the book itself was disappointing.” It’s not winning her over to twentieth century Earth literature, that’s for sure.

“Really? I’ll admit I didn’t appreciate it when I was younger, but revisiting it has changed my mind. I’ll have to get Elim to read it. I expect scathing and highly entertaining comments about sentimentality.”

They’re two days into captivity, give or take, and Julian is trying his best to keep her from slipping into panic. To that end, he’s just finished reciting _The Old Man and the Sea_.

Kara is underwhelmed. “It was all for nothing. Santiago could’ve died out there in the open ocean because he was to stubborn to give up, and he finishes no better off than he started. The only ones who made out well were the sharks.”

“On the contrary, he proved himself. Most importantly to himself, and secondarily to the community.”

“And that was worth almost dying for?”

“Yes,” says Julian firmly.

“You and I are very different people.”

“I get that a lot.”

She chuckles. “Anyway. Thank you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed all the ways you’re keeping me from despair.” While he hasn’t said as much, she gets the impression that reciting entire novellas isn’t the kind of demonstration of his memory he goes around doing for just anyone.

However he might’ve responded, it goes unvoiced when a kidnapper comes in. Julian stands, casually defiant as ever. Kara’s doubts she manages to look even a fraction as collected as he does, but she’s damned if she’s going to cower in the corner during what, at a guess, is going to be another round of threats and refusal. If Julian is standing, so is she.

“How touching,” says the goon. It’s a different one this time, another human man, scarier-looking than the previous. “You’re looking out for your friend, Doctor. It’s a shame you won’t go so far as to ensure she eats.”

“You seem very sure you can break me,” replies Julian.

“Everyone has a breaking point. We have nothing but time. When she’s begging you for food in two or three weeks, you’ll be singing a different tune.”

That’s it. Kara is sick and tired of being completely ignored here. “Excuse me? Who says I wouldn’t rather die of starvation than let to giving an already nasty bunch extra advantages so they can go around being even more horrible and kill other people?”

In all honesty, she’s not sure if she is that strong. She’d like to think so, but it’s never come up before.

Their captor scoffs. Julian smiles, so Kara figures she’s holding her own well enough.

“The universe is full of killers,” the goon says. It’s an unpersuasive argument, but he finally addresses her like a person. In current circumstances, Kara counts that as a minor victory and a step up from being ignored. “At least I’m going to target the guilty instead of the innocent.”

Julian all but rolls his eyes. “Judge, jury, and executioner. You really know how to state your case, don’t you?”

“Fine. Make this harder on yourself,” says the goon. His gaze hardens and honestly, he’s very intimidating. It’s not his physical body, which is unremarkable, but the general sense that he will do anything to achieve his goals and crush you like an ant if you get in his way. Everything about him screams ‘remorseless’ and Kara is starting to empathize with ants. “You don’t have Starfleet backing you up now, Doctor. Who’s going to come for you? Your tailor? I’m not afraid of him.”

“You should be,” Julian says, and the strange part is, Kara believes him.

The goon doesn’t. “That desperate, hmm? Fine. Have it your way and make this harder than it has to be. We’ll talk in a few days and see if you’re starting to come around to reason.”

With that, he stalks off and Julian huffs, “Refusing us food. Even the Dominion didn’t stoop that low. Possibly because they wanted some challenge in the arena, but still.”

“Wait. You were in Dominion custody?” No wonder that reporter wanted to talk to him.

“It’s where the Breen saved my life.”

He stretches, in line with his earlier assertions that they ought to regularly. Kara’s not sure if it makes any difference – her hunger is a dull ache instead of a sharp pang now, and with that comes weakness and shakiness – so mostly joins him for lack of anything better to do.

She doesn’t ask about Julian’s time as a Dominion prisoner, curious though she is. It’s obviously not a subject he cares to delve deeply into, and truth be told, Kara is still stuck on his earlier remark.

_Your tailor? I’m not afraid of him._

_You should be._

Through this ordeal, Julian has acted as though he’s nothing more than mildly inconvenienced to be locked up in a forcefield without food until he agrees to muck around with his captors’ genes. There just has to be more going on than Kara knows. She’s willing to bet it has to do with some of Garak’s many secrets.

Under the circumstances, as long as she doesn’t need to be afraid of Garak herself, Kara is alright with this.

* * *

Internal clocks aren’t quite as internal as Kara assumed. At least hers isn’t. She’s long considered it above average, but it turns out she relies on plenty of external cues: eating lunch (oh, to have a lunch right now!), the last dismissal bell, Lutro leaving for his Wednesday night drawing group. Without any of those, she’s lost all track of time.

Julian’s not sure either. He’s better than Kara at keeping time, but says he’s no good at it while asleep, so he’s estimating that plus their initial unconsciousness after being stunned.

Best guess, they’re on Tuesday evening now.

She’s just finished updating him on a year-old scandal looming over the upcoming local election. It’s not as good a story as the holographic caper he related earlier, but at least he’s up to date on municipal politics now.

“I suppose I ought to update my official voting residence,” he muses, as though compiling that kind of to-do list is just what one does in this situation. Kara can’t help wondering if that’s common in Starfleet or unique to Julian. “It’s still San Francisco, absentee. To be honest, I always skipped the local matters, since I didn’t follow them.”

“Soon you won’t be able to go anywhere without people talking about the city council election. That’s what happens when three of the councilpersons were found in bed together.”

“Local politics may be more interesting than I’d realized.”

The lights go out, and with them the forcefield. Julian wastes no time leaving their holding cell, and Kara hurries to follow. Shaky though she may be, hope and adrenaline fuel her effectively enough.

“That’s our ride.” Julian leans in closely to whisper, “Lutro’s family has a shuttle, yes?”

She nods.

“Does it have a transporter?”

“No.” Bees, according to Lutro, don’t like the beaming process and habitually show their disapproval by stressing themselves to death. Or something like that; Kara’s a little fuzzy on the details of apian biology, but the point is, no transporter.

Julian takes the setback in a stride. Specifically, he strides down the hallway and starts looking into the nearest rooms. His legs are much longer than Kara’s, and she’s speedwalking to keep up. “Lutro’s not nearby,” she tells him, in case that influences his actions. “I can’t sense him at all.” Not even a whisper of emotion. Lutro is over five kilometers away. 

If there’s one thing she’s sure of, it’s that Lutro would make his coming along a condition of Garak using the shuttle. Besides, you never know when even a weak telepathic bond will come in handy.

The next moment the world tilts and she’d pitched forward into a cabinet, none too gently. Her hip slams against something sharp. That’s going to leave a bruise.

“Are you alright?” asks Julian, who braced himself in time. Enhanced reflexes have their uses, though they don’t seem worth the trouble.

“I’m okay.” Her throbbing hip isn’t comfortable. It’s also not a priority at the moment.

“You look like you’re in pain.”

“It’s already fading, and you can take care of the bruise later.”

This satisfies Julian, who goes back to… whatever he’s doing. Looking for something, going by the way he’s checking cabinets.

Two rooms later, he finds what he wants: a stash of medicines. “Yes, I can work with this.”

Kara watches as he starts loading hyposprays. “Uh, Julian? Shouldn’t we be trying to escape?”

“Working on it. Come take some of these, will you?”

She’d like to ask what he’s doing. Not wanting to interrupt his concentration, she instead takes a hypospray in each hand.

“Stay there,” instructs Julian. He waits beside the door, pressed up with a hypospray at the ready. Now Kara gets it. He’s going to ambush the first person through the door.

What happens if multiple people come through the door?

As it turns out, the first one falls to the floor unconscious, and the second one tries to stun Julian but the shot hits the ceiling when Julian punches her. Then she gets the hypospray, too.

“That’ll give us roughly half an hour for these two,” he says. “Come on.”

“Impressive.”

“I try.” He scoops up phasers from both of the downed thugs, neither of whom are familiar. The two hyposprays Kara was holding go in his waistband, and then he hands her a weapon. “Have you ever fired a phaser before?”

“Is it at all like laser tag?”

“Close enough,” says Julian. “It’s set to stun, so as long as you don’t hit me we’ll be fine.”

“Should we stun them?” She gestures to the two Julian knocked out cold.

“No. There’s a chance it would kill them after the drug combination.”

As unsympathetic as Kara is towards this bunch, she’s not up for murder, so she follows Julian out into the hallway. Having a phaser gives her new confidence. For that matter, so does having seen what Julian just pulled off. She wasn’t kidding about him being impressive.

After another minute or two of creeping around, Julian stops suddenly and Kara walks into him. “If I’m wrong,” he whispers almost inaudibly, “we’re going to have to run into that room and defend ourselves.”

“Wrong about what?”

“This.” Phaser lifted and at the ready, he speaks at regular volume. “Kish’toe.”

“Kish’toe,” comes the reply, and Julian isn’t running. Kara can breathe again.

“It’s Elim,” he says.

Sure enough, around the next corner they find Garak. Not the type for big displays of emotion, the Cardassian takes a good long, assessing look at Julian and nods. “Already armed? Well done, my dear.”

“We left two guards unconscious in a room thirty-one meters back. If they’ve been honest about their numbers, that leaves four more.”

“There were a total of nine lifesigns in this building. I’ve taken care of two,” Garak says. “Ah, that’s Mr. Brel.” He presses an unseen button. “Go ahead.”

“Long-range sensors just picked up a ship. Too far out to be certain, but it could be Tzenkethi.”

Kara has never been so happy to hear Lutro’s voice, even bearing bad news. Surely it won’t be long now before she’s reunited with her husband.

“Thank you, Mr. Brel. You may approach as planned.”

“Have you found Kara yet?”

“I’m here,” she says.

“Thank the deities. Are you alright?”

“I will be once we’re out of here and I get some food.”

Garak cuts in. “Which will happen faster if we focus on moving. Stand by, Mr. Brel.”

Kara would’ve liked to have left the channel open, but she isn’t willing to argue over it. Garak and Julian seem to know what they’re doing, and God knows she doesn’t.

“How unfortunate for your captors that I blew up their ship,” remarks Garak casually as he leads the way. Kara has never heard someone so blasé about wanton destruction of property before.

“Just like that?” she asks.

“Your husband’s shuttle is not well-equipped for defense or offense. I couldn’t risk a pursuit we would surely lose.”

Julian comes to an abrupt stop. “The girl comes with us.”

“Julian…” Garak doesn’t sound pleased. Kara had forgotten all about the child, though she agrees with Julian now that he reminded her. Leaving the poor kid to Tzenkethi raiders is not acceptable if there’s any alternative.

“She comes with us,” repeats Julian.

“That is a complication we don’t need,” Garak says, in the resigned tones of a man who knows he’s already lost the argument but feels the need to state his case anyway.

“It’s not negotiable.”

“I’m with Julian,” Kara votes.

“Sentiment will be the downfall of the human race,” grouses Garak. “Very well, but if you insist, we will lose a valuable head start.”

Julian says, “It’s possible.”

“Reckless and foolhardy, but possible.” Garak sounds unhappy to admit it.

“I’ll take those odds. Kara?”

She’s no heroine, but can’t in good conscience leave the girl behind. Tzenkethi are not known for their mercy, and she trusts Julian. “I’m in for saving a kid.”

Not all of Garak’s words are audible. Something about self-preservation.

A few minutes later the three of them are standing outside a door which Garak, who has some kind of Cardassian tricorder, identified as leading to the room where the other two kidnappers and the girl are. Two adults, one child. Julian and Garak work out a plan in hushed tones, and seem to have more or less agreed when Garak hits his comm button again. “Yes?”

“It’s definitely a Tzenkethi ship,” says Lutro. “Closing fast.”

“Land,” says Garak. “We’ll be out soon. With a spare child, no less.”

Lutro’s response is lost to the closed comm line, but Kara has a pretty good idea how high her husband’s eyebrows have gotten. Well, before the Breen attack Lutro used to wonder if he should’ve gotten a little more adventure in his life when he was young. This should go a long way towards his lifetime exploit quota. It’s certainly filled Kara’s. She’s never thirsted for adventure to begin with.

Julian pries off a casing of some kind to use as a makeshift shield. Kara’s role in this plan is limited to pressing the door release, and she’s okay with that. As soon as the door opens, the thugs start shooting. Julian throws out his shield with one hand and fires with the other in tandem with Garak, and then the only sound is the wailing of a child.

“All clear,” says Julian. He advances behind a desk and starts speaking in a soothing voice. “Hello, Eloise. It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Julian. We don’t have time for pleasantries.”

Ignoring his partner, Julian continues speaking to the girl. Kara peeks around and sees the kid can’t be older than five, and obviously terrified. Poor thing.

“Daddy!”

“I know you want your daddy. But you need to come with us so you don’t get hurt. I’m going to pick you up now.”

“Daddy Daddy Daddy!”

Julian slings the girl over his shoulder and deftly presses his hypospray to her neck. “It seems a kindness to sedate her for the moment.”

“There’s no time to waste,” says Garak, and leads them out at a quick pace.

Kara can feel Lutro, first in vague feelings of apprehension mixed with relief, and then in _Kara, imazadi. You’re really okay?_

_I haven’t eaten since breakfast Saturday, but I haven’t been used as a punching bag, if that’s what you’re worried about._

_I was._

She fills him in on the details as they hurry out, what the kidnappers wanted and how they’re bringing the girl.

_Garak is scarily competent_, Lutro tells her.

_I noticed. I don’t think Julian was joking when he said these bastards should be scared of Garak._

_Wouldn’t surprise me. He modified the shields so we look like an asteroid. Don’t ask me how. I’m pretty sure they don’t teach _that_ in tailoring school._

_I’m pretty sure Garak’s a lot more than a tailor._

_You and me both_.

Suddenly, the possibly ways Garak might have helped the Federation during the war seem vast. There was always a good reason for Julian’s nonchalance, and what their captors thought to be bravado or a bluff was simple knowledge.

Lutro lands just as they’re coming out, winding a path through scattered pieces of metal which Kara presumes used to make up a ship. She feels, on some level, she ought to be more concerned that they’re sentencing six people to be killed or taken as Tzenkethi slaves. Try as she might, though, she can’t muster up the compassion for people who grabbed her off a mountain and planned to starve her until Julian agreed to turn them into supervillains.

If Lutro’s simmering rage is anything to go by, she’s not the only one.

“I’ll fly,” announces Garak when the shuttle door opens. “If you will permit it, Mr. Brel.”

Lutro is only too happen to abandon the controls in favor of wrapping Kara in a tight hug. She sees Julian lying the little girl down, but most of her attention is on soaking up the relief of standing in her husband’s arms, on his family ship with the familiar scent of beeswax. It feels like safety, even with incoming Tzenkethi.

“Oh, you must be starving,” says Lutro.

“I need this more,” she confesses into his neck.

After a minute, he lets go and heads to the replicator all the same. “What would you like?”

“Nothing heavy,” says Julian. “Soup would be ideal.”

“Don’t expect anything fantastic from this replicator,” Lutro warns. _Poratel?_

_I’ll eat anything. _

While Lutro replicates and Julian scans the girl with a tricorder pulled from the emergency med kit, Garak pilots them out of orbit. He is perfectly serene.

_I wouldn’t want to get on Garak’s bad side_, she tells Lutro. _I’m getting serious ‘hurt my man and you will regret it until your dying day, which may be very soon’ vibes._

Lutro’s amusement ripples through her head. _I’ve noticed. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers may decide for themselves if the people Garak shot lived to be killed by the Tzenkethi or not.


	4. Concealment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story got out of hand. Thanks for sticking with me. =)

By the time Kara has finished a bowl of poratel soup, Julian has scanned her, healed her bruise with what he calls an antique dermal regenerator, and declared she just needs food and rest before starting in on his own soup. Meanwhile Garak kept busy stealing an asteroid from the system’s asteroid belt. That is, presuming it’s possible to steal from a system no one has claimed. They’re outside the Federation in the unofficial neutral zone, so Kara’s not entirely sure how theft of a minor body falls, legally speaking.

“What good is the asteroid going to do us?” she asks.

“We are going to alter its trajectory to head slowly out of the system in the direction of the Vadari moons. In the meantime, we will use minimal power and conceal ourselves in a small valley on the asteroid’s surface.”

“And hopefully the Tzenkethi pass right by us,” finishes Lutro. “Clever. We sure can’t unrun them.” To Kara, he adds, _He did say he had contingency plans. There I was ready to come after you immediately, but Garak insisted we had to prepare._

Garak says, “It may be some time before we can leave.”

“As long as we have food and the Tzenkethi miss us, I’m happy,” says Kara. “Julian, is it too soon for more soup?” Hungry as she is, throwing up isn’t going to help anything.

“Yes.”

“Damn.”

Lutro can’t stop touching her, as though if he doesn’t hold on she’ll be snatched away again. To that end she’s sitting on his lap in the copilot’s seat. He’s telepathically updated her on more details, like how the police were still trying to track her and Julian down and he’s pretty sure Garak’s methods weren’t entirely legal. _Not that he outright admitted it, but I have a feeling he hacked his way into some accounts or databases_. Under the circumstances, neither of them mind. She can save musing on the rule of law, civil liberties, and proper procedures for another time.

“How did you know where we were?” she finally asks Garak.

“Your kidnappers made two mistakes at the outset.”

“The first man, Lester,” says Julian. “Eloise’s father. He approached me two weeks ago hoping I’d agree to genetically engineer her. Threats followed. I told Elim, of course, and we worked to identify him. So when you and I went missing, Elim had a solid lead.”

That explains part of it. Kara’s even more curious about the rest. “And the second mistake? Underestimating you, Garak?”

“I was going to say inadequate research.”

“Which is more or less the same thing,” says Julian.

Kara mulls all this over for a moment. It’s going to take a lot more processing, no doubt. “Julian told one of the thugs he should be afraid of you.”

“Did he?” asks Garak. “He does have an unfortunate tendency to give away more information than discretion would allow.”

“They can’t say I didn’t warn them.” Julian comes over to peer at the readouts, which might be an excuse to get closer to Garak. It’s hard to tell with the two of them, sometimes. They’re not the most physically demonstrative couple, though the way they look at each other makes their love pretty clear. Knowing that Cardassians flirt by arguing explains a lot, too.

“Ah, one of your moral obligations,” says Garak. “I should have known.”

Lutro eyes his console and frowns. “The Tzenkethi ship is about to enter the circumstellar disc on the opposite side of the system.”

Kara thinks if they have to enter the system, she’d much prefer it be on the other end.

“Go to minimal power,” says Garak. “Cease active scans.”

Lutro puts in the commands. “Got it.”

The lights dim and the view outside becomes nothing but rock as Garak settles them into the ravine. Kara tries her best not to focus on any parallels to entombment, with mixed success.

“What’s the plan for her?” Lutro asks, looking back at the girl. Eloise, that’s her name.

Garak answers. “Since her mother was killed in the Breen attack, I presume she’ll end up with other relatives. She has an aunt in Parah.”

_He is a very thorough researcher_.

_I’d noticed, _Lutro sends._ Talk about leaving no stone unturned. He doesn’t even leave a tiny pebble unturned. _Aloud, he says, “I meant the plan for right now.”

“She’ll be unconscious for another hour and a half,” Julian says. “After that, we’ll have to take care of her the best we can under the circumstances.”

It’s not much of a plan, really. Kara has no doubt they can take care of her in terms of keeping her alive, but from the poor girl’s perspective she’s just been kidnapped, and she may have even seen her father shot. That’s going to be a lot harder to deal with.

“Should I take that to mean we can’t sedate her again?” asks Garak.

“I’d rather not risk another dose so soon, and I didn’t sedate her for our convenience, as you well know,” says Julian.

Unperturbed by the mild reproach in his partner’s gaze, Garak replies, “Perhaps not, but it was an agreeable side effect.”

After taking some time for everything to sink in, Kara finally addresses the elephant in the room. “You’re a man of many talents, Garak. If they’d done their research, what would they have found?”

“No lies, Elim.” At Garak’s look of alarm – if the tensed eyeridges are anything to go by – Julian clarifies, “You don’t have to go into details, but at least have the courtesy to say so instead of spinning tales. They deserve that.”

“The tales always worked for you.”

“I knew it was a game.”

Kara doesn’t know what that means. In regards to Julian and Garak, this isn’t new. They’re the only people she knows who can turn a walk back from a concert into a detailed discussion of Andorian folk tales and look like they want to jump each other by the time they get home. (It might not be anything Kara personally would find romantic or sexy, but watching the two of them wasn’t half bad entertainment. She suspects Garak’s memory is on par with Julian’s. The pair of them can inexhaustibly rattle off quotes in support of their respective points. All told, it was a very interesting walk home that evening.)

Garak sighs almost inaudibly. “If your captors had done their research, Ms. Whitsell, they would have discovered any number of rumors suggesting I have not always been a simple tailor.”

_He’s really good at answering without actually answering, isn’t he? _Lutro asks.

_I’m going to say he’s had lots of practice._ Aloud, she continues, “Obviously the rumors are on to something. I figured that out already, thanks. And if you keep calling me Ms. Whitsell, I’m going to start calling you Elim.”

Garak makes a dismayed face. (Julian grins at her.) “Very well. My compliments on the effective use of threat, Kara.”

“Some kind of special ops background?” guesses Lutro.

_That would make sense_, she tells him. _Julian never had a single moment of doubt, and now I know why. Garak certainly has a diverse skill set. _

_Computer hacking, ship tracking, shield reprogramming in ways I didn’t even know were possible, single-handedly storming a stronghold… I get the feeling there’s more. _Lutro gives the mental equivalent of a shrug. _Special ops is the only thing that makes sense to me._

“You could say that,” replies Garak noncommittally.

When Garak shuts a conversation down, it’s dead and buried. Kara accepts that he’s not going to explain exactly where he learned all these tricks, and that he doesn’t owe it to her, curious as she is. For all she knows there’s some kind of painful story in his past she has no right to dredge up. Or it’s a war-related thing he doesn’t like to discuss, the same as Julian.

“Well, the gossip mill is going to go wild with you rescuing us while the police were still… uh… whatever they’re doing.”

“Wasting valuable time,” says Garak. “We would have been here three hours earlier if I wasn’t obligated to ‘assist’ their investigation with a tedious interview.”

“To be fair, most people rely on the police for this kind of thing.”

“So your husband told me. I prefer more direct action.”

“My knight in shining armor,” Julian says in a teasing tone.

“I unfortunately read that genre,” Garak retorts. “If you were waiting helplessly for rescue in the manner of the damsels saved by knights, I would have no interest in securing your freedom in the first place.”

_They have a unique take on romance_, muses Lutro. _Also, wasn’t waiting basically what Julian was doing?_

_Yes and no. As soon as Garak cut the power, or I’m assuming he did anyway, Julian was off. By the time we met up with Garak, Julian had knocked out two goons with sedatives and stolen their phasers. _

Actually, Kara has an uncomfortable feeling that if anyone was a helpless damsel in distress here, it was her. To be fair, she doesn’t have Julian and Garak’s training or – evidently – experience in such matters. Nor did she break down, so all things considered, she held her own reasonably well.

* * *

Eloise doesn’t calm down until Lutro takes her in the back where bee hives are usually secured, away from everyone else. It makes sense, from a child’s perspective. Garak and Julian burst into the room where she’d been with her father, phasers firing, then Julian scooped her up and Kara – well, Kara was there. Lutro hadn’t been part of that, so he’s the least terrifying.

She is most scared of Julian. It’s a sad twist considering without Julian, she’d be dead by now. Or a Tzenkethi prisoner, which might even end up being worse, but either way, she’s too young to understand what he did for her.

“She’s stopped panicking,” Kara reports. “Now she’s crying into his shirt.” Lutro also shared several thoughts on how much easier it is to deal with children when you can use telepathy, but she doesn’t see any need to relay those. He would never intrude in her mind or scare her further unless her life suddenly depended on it.

“And I’m the monster who took her from her father.” Julian frowns. “Poor girl.”

“Talk about no good deed going unpunished,” she says.

“It’s never stopped Julian before, and I’m sure it never will.” Garak sounds resigned, like it’s a bad thing that Julian wants to help, when everyone knows full well Garak stayed up half a night sewing by hand when the power went to ensure Rachel Aronoff had an appropriate outfit to wear to her grandmother’s funeral. (He claims it was good for business. Kara thinks he was helping a fellow gardener for the sake of it.)

Julian ignores the jibe. “Hopefully we can reunite her with her family soon. Once we reach Federation space, we can send a message to the Vadaran authorities.”

“I imagine I’ll be subjected to another round of questioning when we return,” says Garak.

Kara’s not sure how these things were handled on Deep Space Nine, or Cardassia for that matter. “The police will be very interested in why you didn’t pass along your information and let them do their jobs.”

“Because I don’t trust them with Julian’s safety.”

“You might not want to use those exact words.”

“It’s not personal,” he says, as though that will smooth everything over.

“Still.”

Garak remains unconcerned. Hopefully Julian can talk some diplomacy into him. Kara has noticed that Garak isn’t the trusting type – it’s impossible not to, the way he hoards secrets – and she gets the impression Cardassians in general are warier than most Federation races, to the point sometimes she wonders if there’s anyone in the universe he trusts besides Julian. What kind of life creates a man like that?

Apparently content to leave explanations about their rescue to the future, Julian instead looks at Kara and says, “I am sorry.”

Right. She knew more guilt was coming. “This was not your fault, Julian.”

“No, but if you hadn’t been with me you would have been left alone.”

You can build infinite universes out of ifs. If her mother hadn’t been an alcoholic. If the Breen hadn’t chosen their moons as a target. If, if if. Kara is learning not drive herself mad with it all.

Because there are the other ifs, too, the ones which could’ve gone another way. If she hadn’t been blessed with a terrific father, how much worse would her life have been? Or what if she and Lutro had been home the night of the Breen attack? They’d be dead.

Her life isn’t perfect. No one’s is, but she’s grateful for what she has, and Julian is on that list. He came into her life when she needed a new friend. Sometimes the simple act of having him over for dinner has lightened her and Lutro’s spirits when they’ve sorely needed it in the fog of post-attack grief. (Julian is an appreciative and entertaining dinner guest.) When she needs to remember someone he always listens with real interest, not just putting up with the story to appease her, even if she rambles a little. He and Garak have added a bit of mystery and interest to the whole neighborhood. Not to mention, Kara’s racquetball game has never been better. Julian is generous with his pointers as everything else.

“I wouldn’t give up your friendship over a few lousy days in a holding cell,” she tells him. And she means it

* * *

**Five Days Later**

“Okay, I see your problem. You can’t just dump in the corn starch.”

Julian looks confused. “Why not?”

He’s a genius. He performs life-or-death medical procedures up to and including brain surgery on Vulcans, does what she has on good authority is groundbreaking research after his shift because he enjoys it, can recite an entire novella he read for school when he was sixteen, calculates in his head when he’s bored, and so on. He’s intelligent in ways which are literally illegal, to the point where he won’t come to trivia nights because he has to handicap himself too much or no one else would bother playing.

All this, and he is the worst cook Kara has ever seen.

It’s endearing, really. Who wants a perfect friend to whom they can never measure up? Not Kara. Julian is as much a flawed human as anyone else, as his ineptitude in the kitchen clearly demonstrates.

“Because it’s giving you lumpy gravy,” she explains. “You need to make a slurry first. Mix the starch with an equal amount of water. Once it’s dissolved, _then _you can whisk it into the broth.”

“The recipe might have mentioned that.”

“Not all recipes are created equal.”

In the aftermath of their kidnapping Kara wants to know how to shoot a phaser properly, just in case it proves a useful skill the future. (She hopes it won’t.) It’s no doubt a classic attempt to feel more in control after helplessness, but they can’t all be blasé about kidnapping like Julian, who was back to work the third day after they returned and generally acts as though life has returned to normal.

Maybe it has, for him. The Tzenkethi left no survivors; Eloise is with her loving aunt; Garak managed not to offend the police too badly, though they plainly aren’t too pleased with him; and the entire community will be talking about this for weeks.

Kara hasn’t found her equilibrium just yet. Hence the desire for shooting lessons. Julian has agreed to give her some pointers, starting with laser tag and eventually working up to finding a deserted place to practice with the phasers he took from the goons and Garak insisted on keeping because “you never know when a spare weapon will come in handy.” 

In return, she’s helping Julian master a few cooking techniques which continue to elude him. First up: gravy.

While she demonstrates the proper way to make gravy, Garak and Lutro are discussing the reconstruction efforts. Lutro has barely let her out of his sight since they got back. He’s going to have no choice in the morning when she goes back to work, but for now he’s content to be setting the table and chatting with Garak. He used to be wary of Garak, and while they’ve glimpsed what the Cardassian is capable of, the experience served to bring the two of them into an understanding and they talk less reservedly than they used to.

Garak protects who he loves. Lutro appreciates that now more than ever.

The gravy comes out lump-free and they’re soon sitting down to dinner with Julian noting, impressed, “A little water makes quite the difference.”

“So does soaking the pot immediately before the gravy can become one with it,” says Lutro. Kara cooks. He does the dishes, and has his own system worked out. “Do you cook, Garak?”

“Yes, though I take a different approach.”

“He uses more spices in a week than a family of five goes through in a month. And he eats canned tuna for breakfast.” At this last bit, Julian can’t help making a face. Kara thinks he has valid grounds for disgust.

Garak says, “I don’t understand why humans insist on labeling some foods as suitable for the first meal and others not, seemingly at random.”

“Because smelling canned tuna first thing in the morning would make me gag,” Kara explains.

So she hasn’t quite figured out her new, post-kidnapping equilibrium. She’ll get there by taking it one day at a time, and right now, she has a great meal to enjoy with her husband and friends. It’s enough to remember what her life feels like with its simple pleasures. She can figure out the rest later.

In the morning she finds her colleagues have left brownies on her desk, students are glad to have her back, and she feels a little bit more like herself again.

To widespread disappointment, she refuses to feed the latest round of Julian-and-Garak gossip.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to know what you think of Kara's POV.


End file.
